


Jasper

by wheel_pen



Series: Loose Gems [5]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Original Work
Genre: F/M, Slavery, Tuyurik, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3865072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An energetic slave manages to get in trouble on an important holiday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jasper

**Author's Note:**

> The bad words are censored; that’s just how I do things.   
> Inherent in slavery and other forms of subjugation are dubious consent, unhealthy relationships, and violence.  
> I hope you enjoy this original work, which was inspired by many different stories.
> 
> Visual reference:  
> Jasper--Robert Downey Jr.  
> Pepper--Gwyneth Paltrow  
> Obadiah--Jeff Bridges

            It was a little chilly in the clearing and Pepper pulled her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders, trying to concentrate on the leader's words. The sky was pale grey, the color they were used to during the winter months, and she had to follow along in her book mostly by the light of the flickering torches set up at the ends of the benches. She heard a soft sigh and gently poked the man beside her in the ribs with her elbow, causing him to open his eyes suddenly. She gave him an amused look, but her uncle Obadiah only straightened up and turned the page in his own book as though he _hadn't_ been caught almost napping at the service.

            She saw his expression change to a more serious one, however, when he glanced around and noticed the empty spot on the bench. Pepper bit her lip and tried not to think about what was going to happen to Jasper if he was much later—or didn't show up at all.

            "—to the Light and its Holy Messengers, who brought order from chaos, summer from winter, day from eternal night, to form the balance that all life depends upon. So it is spoken," the leader concluded.

            "So it is spoken," the congregation responded in unison.

            "And now, please turn to page 127 in the songbook," the leader instructed, "as we sing 'The Rising of the Sun.' "

            Pepper switched books, the proper place already marked (she tended to be a little anal about that), and rose with the rest of the congregation as the instruments began to play. She noted that her uncle took the opportunity to sneak a quick look around the park surrounding the worship area, but he didn't look any more pleasant when he turned back to the songbook. Pepper sighed and tried to enjoy the low, haunting thrum of the stringed instruments and the deep, steady beat of the drums—this was one of the most important services of the year, and if Jasper missed it for more of his mischief, he probably deserved whatever punishment he got.

            "'Out of the darkness/Deliver us, Annalia/Out of the darkness/Bring us the sun,'" Pepper sang earnestly. Slowly a pink tinge began to form on the horizon and the song continued, well-timed to make it almost seem as though the singing itself was drawing the sun upward. Of course, should the timing _not_ be so perfect, the song had at least fifty-seven verses. The longest Pepper had ever experienced was about fifteen, but usually no more than four with a decent musical director.

            Pepper saw a movement in the corner of her eye and turned her head towards the edge of the park at the same time as Obadiah. While the rest of the congregation watched the rising sun, they watched two figures scrambling down the hill that buffered the clearing from the street on the other side of the park. Of _course_ Jasper was with Scotty, she should have realized. Beth's family had slipped into the last bench a smidge late, her father being no more fond of early services than Pepper's uncle, so Pepper hadn't noticed that Jasper wasn't the only person missing.

            The two young men—thankfully dressed in appropriate suits and ties that were mostly clean—slowed to a quick trot as they approached the benches and finally separated, Scotty heading for the back while Jasper ducked beneath the songbooks and squeezed around to Pepper's side, away from Obadiah and his significant look. Innocently Jasper grabbed the edge of Pepper's book and started singing.

            "Sun… Annalia… darkness," he muttered tunefully until he could find the verse they were currently on.

            Pepper _might_ have been fooled by his pious attitude—if she didn't know him so well. They made eye contact a moment later, after her uncle had stopped glaring, and he gave her a sly grin—the kind she could never resist. A small arc of the sun appeared over the edge of the rise, golden-rose through the grey haze, and the congregation sang the chorus one last time before ending the song. This time of year, that was the highest the sun was going to get all day; but it was more than they'd had the last few months, and the amount of daylight would increase rapidly through summer. The service leader proclaimed a final blessing on the day and the crowd began to relax their postures, turning to chat with neighbors or running to the open field to play.

            Obadiah laid his songbook back on the bench and turned a dark gaze on the latecomer. Before he could speak Jasper—carefully staying on the far side of Pepper—clasped the young woman around the waist and kissed her cheek. "Happy Sunrise!" he told her cheerfully.

            Pepper reached up to kiss her frowning uncle's bearded cheek. "Happy Sunrise, Uncle."

            "Happy Sunrise," he returned, not taking his eyes off the younger man, who had a tendency to slip away just when he ought to be punished. Indeed, Jasper tried to cajole Pepper into leaving the aisle with him, but Obadiah reached around and grabbed his arm first. "Today is a very important holiday," he reminded Jasper in his low, even, but nonetheless menacing voice, "but don't think I won't beat you tomorrow."

            "Oh, of course not, I fully expect it," Jasper assured him gamely. "I deserve it. Late to the Sunrise Service? It really upsets me. I ran here as fast as I could!" Obadiah rolled his eyes, accustomed to the boy's fast-talking prattle. "It's just that I was making the cinnamon bread and I ran out of eggs, but I know how much you love it, so I had to borrow some from Scotty, and _he_ needed some sugar for the berry pudding and—"

            "Stop talking."

            "Yes, sir."

            Pepper tried not to smile as the three of them left the benches for the open grass. It seemed like Jasper was always in trouble somehow, not usually anything _too_ bad, but enough to constantly irritate her uncle. He was a stern man with a firm hand, but he wasn't cruel; a cruel man would have broken Jasper's lively spirit long ago and counted it a job well done. But sometimes Pepper thought her uncle _wished_ he had been that cruel.

            At the back of the benches Jasper's frequent partner-in-crime, Scotty, was helping Beth collect the books while rubbing a reddened ear; apparently _his_ master hadn't let the sacred day prevent him from admonishing the slave for his tardiness. For a moment Pepper wondered what the two of them had been up to, but then she decided maybe she didn't really want to know.

            "Excellent service," Obadiah told the leader, shaking hands as the older man approached.

            "Oh, thank you, it's not difficult with a beautiful Sunrise Day like today…"

            Jasper squirmed at Pepper's side while the service leader spoke, glancing around at all the places he would rather be. She took his hand and tried to indicate that he should stay still, but it was a wasted effort—he started fussing with her shawl as if solicitously attending to her comfort but ended up teasing her with a bit of fringe until she giggled too loudly and drew her uncle's attention.

            "Have you heard, Pepper's been accepted to the Finishing Academy," Obadiah mentioned pointedly to the leader, and his niece _and_ slave sobered immediately. The topic of Pepper's imminent departure—even though it was months away from occurring—was bittersweet for her, and probably just _bitter_ for Jasper.

            "Yes, of course I heard!" the leader enthused proudly. "We always knew Pepper would go far, didn't we? Why, I remember when you were just a little girl, only so high and already speaking so well!"

            Pepper blushed and murmured words of thanks; it was so awkward being reminded of her apparently precocious childhood. Jasper, she could tell, wanted to ask if the leader remembered _him_ when he was 'only so high'—well, who _wouldn't_ remember the child who accidently set their ceremonial robes on fire once? Jasper had been precocious, too, in his own way. But it wouldn't be wise to bring the subject up on his own, so Pepper nudged his ankle to discourage him.

            Fortunately, before Pepper had to think of something else to say, her friend Beth came bouncing up to her, with Scotty in tow. "Aren't they _terrible_?" the dark-haired girl enthused, and Pepper had a feeling from her tone that Scotty had already confided in her what mischief he and Jasper had been up to.

            Obadiah turned suspiciously in their direction but Pepper quickly took Beth's arm—and Jasper's—and steered the group away from the adults. "Sorry!" Beth hissed, realizing the trouble she'd almost caused.

            "Just tell me there's nothing noticeable at the house or around town," Pepper sighed, once they were out of her uncle's hearing. "More than that I don't want to know."

            Beth giggled. "You don't want to know at all, then!"

            Pepper shook her head, exasperated. "Jasper, why can't you just behave?"

            The boys were a few paces away, laughing and play-fighting. "It's boring!" he answered, in between ducking.

            "I heard at the Finishing Academy they teach you how to discipline slaves," Pepper remarked, with resignation. "Maybe I'll pick up a few tips."

            "Oh, Scotty _swears_ they got everything cleaned up," Beth replied dismissively. "I'm sure your uncle won't even notice a thing."

            "That's hardly the point, though," Pepper argued. She had a feeling Beth wasn't listening to her, though. _Add her to the list_ , Pepper though, a tad bitterly. "Jasper, stop that, you're going to stain your clothes!" Somehow both boys had ended up on the ground. "They're getting too old to act like that." Beth merely laughed at their antics.

            Jasper broke off playing and crawled over to Pepper—on his knees, in the grass, she noticed with a wince—and threw his arms around her. She wobbled slightly and had to rest her hand on his shoulder for balance. "You're not mad at me, are you, Pepper?" he pleaded teasingly, looking up at her with his beautiful brown puppy dog eyes. "Don't be mad! I'll be good!"

            She had to smile at that. "I'm not convinced you _could_ be good. It's boring, remember?" She pushed on his shoulder but didn't dislodge him. "Would you get up?"

            "On the other hand," he added in a low, sly voice, "I could be very, very naughty." Pepper didn't want to blush at his suggestive tone, but she could hardly help it; Beth's giggles didn't make the situation easier.

            "Stop it. Go on, get up," Pepper insisted, pushing at him again, and again to no avail. Not that she ever felt _threatened_ by Jasper; just occasionally embarrassed and irritated.

            She was so focused on trying to get out of his grip—almost as focused as he was trying to maintain it—that she didn't even notice her uncle approaching until the moment before his large hand clamped down on Jasper's shoulder. All giggling ceased.

            "Up." Jasper hopped to his feet, looking suitably chastened. "You are too old to behave like that." Pepper's 'told you so' moment was dispelled by the fact that her uncle was clearly including her—all of them, really—in this judgment. "Come on, let's go home, shall we?"

            The three of them slowly made their way home through the quiet town. Most of its citizens had been at the service as well and were also returning home with the proper dignity the day entailed—or they hadn't bothered to get up yet, early as it was. Pepper walked along beside her uncle, her arm through his, while Jasper squirmed along behind them trying to brush the grass stains out of his suit. Well, he'd have to clean it later, anyway.

            "—very well-timed, but you can't exactly _tell_ someone that, can you?" Pepper and her uncle were commenting with amusement.

            Meanwhile Jasper jabbered behind them, mostly not needing any kind of response. "Wow, it's so cloudy today! What do they say if it's cloudy on Sunrise Day? It takes longer for spring to come? But 'spring' is based on astrological phenomena, so it can't really vary—or is it astronomical? Oh, hey, the Smiths haven't cleaned up their yard at all, have they? Well, I heard Sally's been sick. I should stop by and see her. Pepper, watch out!" At this Jasper grabbed her arm and maneuvered her around a certain dark-colored lump in her path. "G-d, I hate it when people just let their dog c—p all over the sidewalk! Who do you think it belongs to? It's too small to be the Haskells' husky…"

            Although Pepper certainly appreciated _not_ treading in the noxious substance, she couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by Jasper sometimes. "Maybe you could have just _warned_ me, instead of pulling my arm out of the socket?" she suggested to him, adjusting her shawl.

            Jasper jumped in front of them, walking backwards adeptly. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you okay? I just didn't want you to get your new shoes dirty. They _are_ new, aren't they? You usually get new shoes for Sunrise Day. Well, I'd clean them anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter. But people shouldn't just leave dog c—p on the sidewalk! I bet it was the Barretts' new puppy. You know what we should do to get back at them? We should—"

            "Jasper," Obadiah interrupted. Over the years he had learned to make the single word convey a wide variety of meanings.

            "Right. Yes, sir." Jasper resumed his place behind them, though he wasn't necessarily _quiet_. "Hey, Pepper, watch me walk along the wall here! Hey, Pepper, isn't that the really nerdy girl from your math class? What's her name? Hey, Pepper—"

            "Jasper!" Pepper didn't quite have her uncle's talent for adding layers to the name by tone alone. "This is the longest walk home ever," she muttered to her uncle.

            He smirked slightly. "It always is. Jasper, I hope you've got breakfast waiting at home. And no surprises."

            "Of course breakfast is ready!" the young man assured them, sounding indignant at the very suggestion that he might not. "Personally I think this may be my best cinnamon bread ever. Even better than the one from two—no, three—years ago, which was previously considered the 'best.' By me, anyway." He deftly ignored the 'surprises' comment.

            Finally they reached the house, its broad front porch clean and welcoming. It was where Pepper had lived all her life—three bedrooms, two stories, pale yellow with white accents, similar in design to all the others on the street. The walk actually wasn't that bad at all—their neighborhood was fairly close to the park where the service had been held, and the town was small anyway. Most of the towns seemed to be this size, with only three or four valley settlements that really counted as "cities." When she was younger Pepper had felt bored here—not as bored as some of her more outgoing friends, who keenly felt the lack of places to party or just hang out where no one would recognize you and ask about your mother, but it _could_ get rather dull, seeing the same well-known shops and places every day. She'd been to some of the other towns, of course—the capital Metropolis, the University town in the north—but they weren't especially close by, and with the frequent stops the trains made, you couldn't exactly jaunt over to a city and back in one evening. Even Pepper, who was normally content with community parties and get-togethers, had occasionally pleaded for a special visit to the city (which she usually didn't get anyway).

            But now she was going. The southern valley with the Finishing Academy was certainly larger than her hometown by several times, a full-fledged urban center with culture, fashion, music, art. If she was ever bored there, it would be entirely her own fault. And of course, now that she had achieved this considerable goal—one or two other girls in her class were also going, and that was all—she felt melancholy about leaving. She found herself thinking it wasn't so bad after all, to live in a place where everyone recognized you and asked about your mother (or reported your misbehavior to her before you'd even gotten home from it). There were certainly several people in town who had moved there _from_ the cities and seemed to vastly prefer the quieter life. But, she had to remind herself, they had seen _both_ worlds before deciding which they preferred. She really only had experience in _one_ —and wasn't that the point of going to the Finishing Academy for a year, to gain experience before deciding what she wanted to do with the rest of her life? She might go on to the University, or come back home and get married (to _whom_ was the big question there), or find a job. Right now she had no idea which, if any, of those plans was right for her.

            Jasper nearly stepped on her leaping up the porch stairs first. "I'll put the coffee on!" he announced, as if anyone else was going to do it. "I didn't want to set it before leaving, in case it started a fire or something…"

            "So responsible," Obadiah remarked dryly.

            At least the house smelled good—like cinnamon bread and berry pudding and the coffee Jasper was spooning out—and Pepper's surreptitious glances didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary like broken glass or shredded pillows. Both of which she _had_ encountered upon returning home on different occasions. Her uncle decided to step out back with one of his potent cigars until breakfast was served, leaving Pepper alone in the hall and feeling a bit aimless. Her first thought was to join Jasper in the kitchen, but since he seemed even more keyed up today than usual, she was afraid her presence might just lead to more trouble. Ironically, it was probably her uncle's mercy on the holiday that was egging Jasper on—if he'd gotten his usual cuff on the head, things would have been settled and he would have moved on. But Jasper always had to _push_ —he'd probably keep acting up until Obadiah finally lost his temper and gave him a beating. Well, Pepper was going to try not to contribute to that, she decided, and headed upstairs to her room.

            Vaguely she could recall a time before Jasper lived with them, possibly—but mostly it seemed like he had always been there. He was a couple of years older than Pepper, so perhaps _he_ had some distinct memories of the time before he'd been bought by her parents—she'd never thought to ask him. Single children were the norm in this country these days, since resources were limited and modern technology negated the need for children as free labor. But many couples also chose to buy a slave around their child's age, to be somewhat of a companion while also assisting with chores. Most of the slaves, at least around here, tended to be boys, no matter the gender of the free child—there was still some yardwork to do and people seemed to feel more comfortable assigning such tasks to a boy.

            Though it depended on the boy, really—certainly Pepper had known some who couldn't open a jar to save their lives, and Sally who lived down the street was about as tough as they came and definitely female. But for the most part female slaves seemed to be associated more with little old ladies who lived in apartments—or with men who wanted a companion in bed as well as elsewhere around the house. The gossips at the coffee shop always seemed to be very concerned when a young girl was bought to live with a little boy, but never the other way around—a free girl was less likely to take advantage of a slave boy than the free boy was with the slave girl, or so it was assumed.

            And certainly _any_ type of slave who tried to do the advantage-taking would find themselves in very serious trouble, which was what made Jasper's little flirtations all the naughtier. Technically it was illegal to have sexual relations with a slave when either person was a minor; but if _both_ were minors or near the same age it was usually tolerated as a learning experience, as long as proper precautions were taken. Pepper and Jasper had even fooled around a little bit in years past, not very extensively though—not like Beth and Scotty, for example. (Though there were also several free boys at school who could claim that distinction with Beth.)

            Usually in a town like this the slaves were just for housework—cooking, cleaning, taking care of the lawn, running errands. Sometimes business owners put them to work if they were reliable enough. Other valleys, Pepper had heard, needed them more for farm labor, and the cities were supposed to be teeming with slaves in low-skill positions like waiters and cleaners (as well as more exotic jobs that weren't publicly advertised in _this_ town). Here some of the slaves were even sent to school with the free children, at least when they were young. Unsurprisingly Jasper was not an academic and had only gone through about age ten, enough to acquire a useful level of math and reading. There were still a couple who had persisted even to the final year of high school, in Pepper's class. Of course they wouldn't go on to the University, even if they were smart enough; but they might be able to make extra income for their owners by tutoring free students or substituting for ill teachers.

            But Jasper had never been meant for _that_ job, clearly. It wasn't that he was _bad_ —far from it. He was sweet by nature. Pepper had seen slaves go bad, and Jasper didn't have anywhere near that level of defiance. But he often spoke or acted without thinking, forgetting himself and his responsibilities for some lark with his friends. Pepper's parents had been too soft on him, was the general consensus around town. He was fourteen when they died and rather set in his ways, and there seemed to be little her uncle could do except try to keep him more or less on track with constant prodding. But Pepper had to wonder—if Jasper's lack of discipline was caused by her parents indulging him, what was his friend Scotty's caused by? Because he was just as mischievous, but Beth's father never hesitated a moment to correct him. Too soft, too hard—there seemed to be as many opinions about the best way to train a slave as there were owners. You would think that _someone_ would have figured it out by now.

            But it wasn't like Jasper was useless, certainly. He kept the house and yard up rather well, considering. And he had become quite a good cook.

            "Breakfast!" Jasper hollered indelicately, summoning Pepper and Obadiah to the kitchen. Cinnamon bread and berry pudding: the traditional Sunrise Day foods. The smell reminded Pepper of holidays past, always a bittersweet sensation. "Coffee," Jasper announced, setting down a cup in front of each. Obadiah took his black, but Pepper did not. Which Jasper always, always forgot. She cleared her throat. "Oh, right! Sugar for the sweet," he added cheekily, bringing her the sugar bowl.


End file.
